


Sort-of

by inglouriously



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Incest, kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-19
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2017-12-12 07:27:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/808900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inglouriously/pseuds/inglouriously
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mom can tell that Dave is jealous of his brother and her daughter, so she decides to take matters into her own hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It's starting to get on Dave's nerves, the way Rose and Bro keep slinking off to fuck each other.

Maybe he's bitter, because she won't fuck him, but either way, it's starting to get old really fast. For instance, they'll be on Dave's couch, watching a movie or having an uncomfortable psychological analysis about Dave's dreams, and the minute Bro gets home, she'll get that stupid, sexy sly look on her face and slip away. Bro is annoyingly cavalier about the whole thing, and once Dave caught him giving him a double finger-gun salute before slamming the door behind him and proceeding to—from the sounds of it—fuck the living daylights out of his ectobiological sort-of daughter.

It's actually totally unfair, Dave will admit to himself in a fit of teenage-boy entitlement, before he claps on his headphones to try and drown out the noise of his sister banging his bro.

When Mom Lalonde finds him, it's like this, sulking on the couch with his headphones blaring audibly and his shades just askew enough that he looks upset, even without his eyes visible. His mouth is clamped into a straight, miserable line, and Mom thinks that, really, he looks like he needs to get laid.

Well.

He barely looks up at her when she approaches, muttering "Hey," under his breath. She sits down next to him, poised as a woman can be with a half-drunk martini in her hand—

the martini is always half-drunk, never half-full, and don't you ever let anyone tell you otherwise

—and leans into him, bumps her shoulder against his, purrs, "Why so glum, David?"

"Dave," he corrects her, doing that teenage boy-monosyllabic response thing that he knows adults can't stand, so he does it whenever he's in the mood to piss someone off. Mom is nonplussed; she knows precisely why he's so pissy, and she can't say she blames him. She runs the fingers of her free hand through his pale blonde hair, musses up the surprisingly silky crop of it.

"Dave," she agrees pleasantly, "you need to relax. Why not let me help?"

She drags him up to the roof of the building, where there happens to be a roomy-looking chaise lounge set up between two concrete storage lockers, shielding them from the view of the neighboring buildings. She knocks back the rest of her martini and drags him down on top of it, and when they emerge half an hour later his face is covered in black lipstick marks and he doesn't have any feeling in his dick anymore.

It's awesome.

And when Bro and Rose emerge from his room not long after Dave and Mom return, Dave can tell that Rose can tell almost immediately. And that's even more often, until she gives him that smile that means he's going to be the subject of a sound psychoanalysis later on.

Worth it, he thinks, looking over at Rose's mother and remembering exactly what she looks like under that sexy labcoat getup.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a one-shot, but here we are.

The next time Rose comes over, she surprises Dave by sitting down on the couch where he's owning ass at Mario Kart instead of making a beeline to Bro's room. She drapes herself across the couch, legs landing akimbo across his lap, and he merely lifts his hands to keep the controller from being jarred and lets her. Really, the only indication that he's aware of her presence is that his eyes dart sideways under his shades, the barest flicker of a glance.

Arms crossed behind her head, Rose surveys him from the other end of the couch.

"So," she begins, voice light but by no means innocent. "How was she?"

Dave lets that sit for a moment; a question like that needs to breathe. Onscreen, Yoshi soars over the finish line, placing first, and jumps for joy.

"Well, I hope you inherited it from her, for Bro's sake."

Rose stares at him for a long moment, and he can tell she's just trying to make him sweat. Fuck that noise; he starts a new race, pushing his kart power up to 500ccs and switching to Princess Peach for irony purposes. He chooses Rainbow Road and waits for the green light, and in the space of time between the level loading and the starting light, he glances over again and notices, _fuck_ , she's not wearing a bra.

He loses spectacularly while Rose watches, and while he watches the leaderboard animation, she gets up and practically bounces off to Bro's room, shutting the door soundly behind her.

Dave curses and chucks the controller at the ground, before digging out his phone and scrolling through his contacts. His finger hovers over the entry titled 'roses mom' for what seems like an hour, even though it's maybe thirty seconds, before he hits it, presses 'Send new message' and drafts out the most desperate teenage booty call ever sent.

She's more than willing, and she sends a car for him. It's awkward in the back of the glossy black towncar that pulls up in front of his apartment complex until Dave pulls his headphones out of his sylladex and gets lost in some sick jams instead of making unnecessary small talk with the driver.

When he pulls up, Mrs. Lalonde is out in front of the circle drive waiting for him in her usual labcoat-dress-thing, though he notices she's forgone any kind of pantyhose or whatever underneath, leaving a stretch of surprisingly supple thigh between the tops of her boots and the hem of her skirt. By the time he makes it up the steps to where she's standing by the door, Dave already has a boner, and he knows that she knows.

_Play it cool, Strider, it shouldn't be hard. It's practically your middle name. Yeah. Dave Cool Strider—_

"Hey." Shit. His voice cracks, turning what should be one syllable into two. She smiles widely, black-painted lips that look painfully like Rose's splitting open to reveal a cheshire grin, and motions him into the house.

"Hello, David. _So_ glad you could make it. It seems you and your sister have decided to trade places for the day."

"Something like that, yeah."

They don't talk much, after that. She pushes him up against a marble pillar and pulls his pants and underwear down in one fell swoop, leaving Dave gasping at the cold marble against his ass, and then those black lips close around his dick, and he can't remember his name, let alone that his Bro and his sister are fucking and he's supposed to be angry about it.

He comes far too quickly, but she doesn't seem to mind, since she drags him into her bedroom immediately afterward and doesn't let him out for what seems like half a day.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose makes up her mind. She needs to take action.

When Rose emerges from Bro's room, what seems like hours later, Dave is nowhere to be found. He must have left qute abruptly, considering the title screen to _Mario Kart_ is still blaring, playing the same tinny music over and over, the controller abandoned on the sofa. She purses her lips. She hadn't even heard him leave, but that's not surprising considering she'd been facedown in Bro's pillow.

"Sorry about your pillowcase," she calls offhandedly over her shoulder. "I'll wash the lipstick out for you later, if you like."

Bro chuckles. "No problem, Lalonde. Mostly my fault anyway."

She leans across the kitchen island pensively, wondering where Dave could have gone. As if in reply, her phone chirps. Rose squints down at it, her mouth tensing into a straight line at the photo waiting on the screen. If there's a mother more fucked up than hers, Rose hasn't found her yet. Roxy Lalonde is grinning that cheshire grin into the camera, expression triumphant. There's a hint of bare shoulder, and in the background is a full-on shot of Dave's bare ass where he's spread across her mom's king-sized bed. 

Rose slams the phone back down on the counter with unnecessary force. This is--this is war. It was one thing when she was dangling her own burgeoning sexuality in front of Dave's face for fun, fucking his Bro just to tease him. But now he's fucking her _mother_ , and that makes it personal. She knows very well that her mom is using Dave to taunt _her_. It's like the ultimate fucked up double-mobius reacharound.

She's finally going to have to do it. She's going to fuck Dave Strider. It's the only way to end these monkeyshines.

\---

When Dave stumbles back into the apartment, it's dark, and he thinks as he regains his footing that maybe he'll be able to creep into bed without anyone noticing. If he's lucky, Rose will be gone--maybe they passed each other in transit. He shuts the door softly behind him and leans on it for a moment, breathing a sigh of relief.

The kitchen light clicks on, and Dave swears he almost pisses his pants. 

Rose is perched on the countertop, and for a brief moment Dave is annoyed, because she's wearing what's probably one of Bro's shirts and no pants.

"Welcome home," she says slyly. "It's very courteous of you to make a quiet entrance."

Fuck. She's here, she's half-naked, and she's using her Freudian bullshit on him again. Or, at least, Dave thinks it's Freudian. He actually has no idea what Freud was all about. Dicks and jealousy and wanting to fuck your mom.

El oh fuckin' el.

"Yeah, sure, whatever," Dave mutters, turning to the fridge and opening it, looking inside just to have something to do that isn't gawk at Rose. To his annoyance--is it annoyance?--she hops down and sidles up next to him. "Did you have fun with my mom? I bet she made for delightful companionship, what with her sparkling wit and excellent conversational skills. Did you two have a nice chat?"

Dave allows her a brief glance, and his face turns read. He'd been wrong. She isn't wearing Bro's shirt. She's wearing his, one of his ratty old Game Bro shirts. Fuck.

"Yeah, she's a hoot," he replies, trying and failing to keep his voice from cracking, hiding it unsuccessfully with a swig from the jug of apple juice. "Why are you still here, anyway? Shouldn't you be cozied up to my Bro, or back home in bed sucking your thumb and counting sheep?"

Rose, to her credit, doesn't even roll her eyes like she must want to. Nope, her poker face is a hundred percent intact.

"Dave, I think you and I need to have a talk," she says breezily, like this is just another conversation. Like she isn't toying with his belt loop. She tugs him away from the fridge, and Dave stubbornly follows, legs stiff and coltish. He doesn't even have a chance to ask whether she's taking him to her leader before she's got him sandwiched between her and the countertop. "I've been using your Bro to make you jealous," she says evenly, "and you've been using my Mom to make me jealous, and she's been using _you_ to make me jealous. So I'm putting a stop to this."

All Dave can do is squeak "Fuck," as she goes for his zip.

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah casually ollied back in here to update this fic after 2 years, THANKS FOR ALL THE VIEWS AND STUFF Y'ALL.


End file.
